


A Handful

by extremelyperturbed



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Mechanical!Winston, Pet!Hannibal, Pocket!Hannibal, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremelyperturbed/pseuds/extremelyperturbed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this kinkmeme:  Will is a third generation colonist on a planet that has these creatures that look like tiny humans called Lecters. Keeping them as pets is highly discouraged as they can be quite nasty when they want to be. Will is someone whose hobby is animal rescue and he finds a wounded Lecter. He patches him up and tries to release him back into the wild only to find that Hannibal rather prefers civilization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Handful

Will patted his face with a towel after having pedaled on his stationary bike for an hour. It was a morning ritual he completed in order to keep his house‘s power reserves full. The stationary bike was connected to a combination of springs and batteries that stored the energy created by the spinning of the wheels. While the solar panels on his roof kept his house running, he had other things that needed the extra energy. 

Will got off the bike and walked over to the recharging station where Winston was waiting for him. He took off the charging cord and turned the mechanical dog on. As Winston opened his eyes and wagged his tail, Will felt slightly sad that the original colonists hadn’t seen fit to bring along pets. However, he knew that they felt that there was no space on the ships for them and that there were concerns that abandoned or escaped pets would disrupt the ecology of the new planet. The original mechanical dogs had been created by Will’s grandfather, an engineer who felt homesick and it had become a family tradition to make and repair them for fellow pet owners. 

“Come on, Winston.” Will put a leash on his dog before they walked along the perimeter of the colony. The ideology of the colony was based on learning from the mistakes that had ruined the previous planet. The population of the colony had only increased slightly from the time of the initial landing and pains were taken to take as little as possible from the surrounding area. While the council allowed the limited harvesting of many of the native fruits and vegetables that had turned out to be not only nutritious but also tasty, there was a ban on eating the local fauna or making them pets. Meat was created in vats and formed into quite convincing facsimiles of various cuts of beef, chicken, pork and fish. 

Will, however, was someone that bent the rules. Whenever he found an injured animal, he would take the animal, nurse it back to health and release it back into the wild. While the official policy was that all animals were to be left to the cruel vagaries of nature, he couldn’t stop feeling for them, especially the Lecters.

The Lecter was a native species that strongly resembled miniature humans about a foot tall. They were omnivores that lived in family groups with males usually leaving them upon adulthood and either taking over another group or living singly. They were shy creatures and hard to study. Months after landing on the planet, there had been quite a bit of debate about their intelligence and whether humans’ mere presence would prevent them from developing further. It was pointed out however that the space ships didn’t have enough power for another jump so they‘d have to settle for minimizing their impact on their evolution.

Winston suddenly stopped and pointed with his nose towards a small bush off the beaten path. He had been programmed to find wounded animals so Will could take them home. Will lifted up the leaves and found a Lecter with a bleeding leg. He reached out with his hand only to hear the Lecter growl at him. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said while pausing to take off his jacket and use that to scoop him up. He squatted and whispered reassurances until the Lecter stopped growling.

He walked to Beverly, the local doctor who also acted as Will’s veterinarian. He knocked on the door of her clinic. The receptionist looked up and said, “Oh, hello, Mr. Graham, another one?”

“Um, yeah,” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed at being so easy to predict. 

“Oh, it’s a Lecter. She’ll be very interested in that.”

***  
Beverly looked at the Lecter sitting on her examination table. “His tibia’s broken but it’s a simple hairline fracture. If he was a human, I’d give him an injection that would heal him right up but their biochemistry isn’t precisely like ours so I’ll just make him a cast, put some antibiotic on his wound and you can come back to the clinic for treatment in three weeks. You know how to feed and care for them?”

“I’ve read the books about them. I‘ll muddle through.” 

“I should also remind you that they often bite and scratch. They may look human but they’re wild animals. The second he’s recovered, you need to let him go.”

“I know that.”

***  
Once he took the Lecter home, he took him to the sink and filled it up with lukewarm water. Using a small washcloth and baby shampoo, he gently wiped him down until his hair and skin was clean. Using a soft terrycloth, he patted him dry. Luckily, the Lecter didn’t bite him but sulked by going limp instead. 

Will got out the largest glass tank he had and lined the bottom with paper shavings. He did not know if Lecters could be potty trained and he wasn’t interested in spending most of his day cleaning his house. He put the tank near a window before putting the Lecter inside. He filled a small bowl with fresh water and put that in before turning to his refrigerator and made a bowl of small fruit salad. He put that next to the water bowl. 

He looked through the transparent wall and saw the Lecter looking back at him, curiously. “What should I call you? My name is Will,” he said while pointing to himself. There was no response. “I’ll call you Hannibal then. I know you can‘t understand me but once your leg is healed, I‘m going to set you free.”

Satisfied that he had given Hannibal the best setup he could, he sat down on the floor of his living room and started fixing Bella's mechanical greyhound that had been limping of late.

***  
The next morning, he took a look at Hannibal, who was sleeping on a mound of shavings and covering himself with another layer. Maybe, Will thought, I should make him a bed. He also noticed that Hannibal had taken care to go to the bathroom in the farthest corner away from his bowls and sleeping mound. 

He quickly made a small bed out of one of his softer towels and wadding. He took the fluffiest hand towel and decided that should be a blanket. Putting that aside, he started to make breakfast for both him and Hannibal. He made himself scrambled eggs and ham with a piece of toast. 

The bustle of him making breakfast must have woke up Hannibal because when he was done plating the food, the Lecter was sitting up, watching him. “Hey, there,” said Will.

Will slowly reached in and took out the Lecter and put him on the dining table. He put the new bowls of food and water in front of him before beginning his own breakfast. Using his hands, Hannibal quietly drank from the bowl of water before looking at Will’s plate. Feeling a bit sheepish, Will offered Hannibal half a spoonful of egg and a tiny piece of ham. 

Hannibal tasted them and looked ecstatic. Will smiled and continued eating his breakfast.

***  
The next morning, Will noticed that Hannibal was sleeping on the miniature bed he had made for him. He watched as Hannibal raised his head with his hair askew, looking irritated at Will watching him. Hannibal motioned for him to go away. After walking away to his dining table, Will sat down and started a journal about taking care of a Lecter. He figured that if he ever found another one, he should keep track of what worked and what didn‘t. 

He did a little sketch of Hannibal in his tank while secretly lamenting his lack of drafting ability before writing down all the data that Beverly had given him about Hannibal’s condition. He did not notice any sign of a fever or further infection and if anything, other than his leg, Hannibal’s biggest affliction seemed to be boredom. 

Will’s thoughts were interrupted by Hannibal tapping on the wall of his tank. Hannibal had finished smoothing his hair and using some of the water to clean himself up. Will reached in and took him to the dining table. Hannibal looked at the drawing and pointed at it. Will pointed at him. “It’s you, well, it’s supposed to be you.”

Hannibal pointed at himself, looked at the drawing then gave Will a disapproving look. Will took a drawing charcoal and using a pocket knife, trimmed it down to a size Hannibal could use and gave it to him as well as a clean sheet of paper. Hannibal motioned for him to look away. 

Will sighed and busied himself with cleaning the tank, replenishing the bowls and washing his hands afterwards. Occasionally, he’d glance at Hannibal busy either concentrating or moving the charcoal across the sheet of paper. At least, he’s not bored, Will thought. 

Will was about to walk over to where Winston was recharging when he noticed Hannibal waving for him to come back. 

“Ok, let’s see what you . . . Oh . . .” said Will as he saw that Hannibal had not only drawn a lovely picture but it was a picture of Will, smiling and in his shorts and T-shirt. Hannibal managed to look both proud and bashful. 

Will reached out and stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.” Looking at the drawing, he decided to get him some colored pencil lead to use next time. 

***  
“Oh, good news, it looks like his leg is healed,” said Beverly using her handheld medical scanner. “Fortunately, Lecters heal faster and better than humans.” 

“So the cast is coming off?”

“Yes, though I have to warn you that his leg might be stiff for a little while until he gets back to using it.”

Beverly sprinkled a liquid on top of the cast which made it soft enough for her to pull it apart using tweezers. She quickly rinsed Hannibal’s leg with a small moist sponge then dried it with a small piece of gauze. “There we go.”

Hannibal managed to stand up but seemed to be a little stiff and wobbly. 

“I need to show you something,” said Will

“What? You need an examination, too?”

“No, it’s at my house.”

“I’m actually free now. It‘s almost my lunch hour and my other appointment isn‘t until four o‘clock.”

***  
Beverly looked at the tank Hannibal lived in and popped an eyebrow. “You made him a bed.” Hannibal was busy sitting on it and rubbing his leg. 

“Yeah, he likes it. Take a look at these.”

Beverly walked over to see half a dozen drawings on the table. “I didn’t know you could draw, Will.”

“I didn’t draw them. Hannibal did . . .”

“Hannibal?”

“I gave him a name.”

Beverly frowned. “Why, Hannibal?”

“I named Winston after Winston Churchill so I named him after Hannibal of Carthage.”

“So basically a famous world leader thing.”

“Yeah.”

Beverly turned to look at the drawings with an appraising eye then realized something. “Will?”

“What?”

“I think he likes you.”

“Really?”

“You’re the only thing he‘s drawn.”

Will scoffed. “I’m the only other person in the house.”

Beverly shrugged. “He could’ve drawn Winston, the dogs you’re repairing or fruit in a bowl. He drew you. He’s a damn good drawer, I’ll give him that.” A drawing caught her eye. “What’s that stick figure in a box?”

“Uh, that’s my drawing.”

***

Now that Hannibal’s leg had healed for the most part, he had become quite the escape artist. While he stayed in the tank most of the time, he would occasionally climb out and go exploring. He had the most annoying habit of walking into the bathroom while Will was pissing into the toilet or taking a shower. Will had to wave a wet face towel to wave him out of the room, which made Hannibal reluctantly shuffle out while making grumbling noises. 

***  
One morning, Will looked into the tank, only to find it empty. “Hannibal? Hannibal?” he said while looking around the house. He went to where Winston was recharging and said, “Winston, scent mode.” Winston opened his eyes and wagged his tail to show that he was ready. Will was about to reach into the tank to get the bed for Winston to sniff when he saw Hannibal climb in through the window next to his tank. He had a spear tied to his back and was carrying a small freshly killed bird. 

“Han . . .” Will was interrupted by Hannibal holding the bird out to him as if it was a present. Will took the dead creature that Hannibal had obviously speared. “You went hunting. I guess you‘re ready to be released.”

Hannibal looked puzzled at Will‘s seeming sadness. He went to the charcoal and paper Will had left next to his tank and drew a fast sketch of Will holding a platter with the bird obviously plucked, gutted and roasted. 

***  
The next morning, Will picked up Hannibal and stroked his hair with his index finger. “I’m going to really miss you.” Cradling him in one arm, he opened the door, closed it behind him and began walking around the perimeter of the colony. 

Will squatted down and put Hannibal near where Winston had found him. Hannibal looked up at him, looking confused. “You should go back to your kind. You’ll be happier that way.“ 

Will stood up and was about to go when he heard Hannibal call his name. 

“Will! Will!” Hannibal’s voice was heavily accented but he was saying his name. 

“Hannibal?” He squatted down again. “You know my name?”

Hannibal wrapped his arms around one of Will’s forearms. “Will . . . Will . . .”

***  
Beverly went to Will’s house with a cream cake studded with tropical fruits she got from a bakery. Her mechanical cat Betty had taken a cat nap and wasn’t waking up despite being recharged for the better part of a week. While Will’s specialty was dogs, he often fixed cats as well.

As she put the cake on the table, she noticed Hannibal sitting on the table, dressed in a plaid suit. “He’s . . . still here.”

“Yeah. I tried to let him go but . . .”

“But . . .”

“He called my name.”

“He can speak? And why is he wearing clothes?”

“He asked for them.”

“Will . . .”

“He didn’t want to go and I didn’t want him to go . . . You‘re not going to report me to the council, are you?”

Beverly sighed and put the cake on the table. “I guess the important thing is . . . How long will it take to get my cat fixed?”

Will smiled. 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> You might find the colony very "crunchy granola" but the Earth they left was very polluted and basically the only animals left were humans & domesticated animals. Think of a mashup of the air quality of Beijing, and a nearby oil spill that got into your drinking water but it's global. It also helps that their clean power technology has advanced a lot from today's so they have no need to frack or drill. As for any mining, they happen to have a much smaller but much closer moon and even if it didn't exist, there are nearby planets & asteroids. 
> 
> I'm guessing approximately three hundred to five hundred years into the future. Even so space on spaceships would be at a premium. It's often been noted that the hallways in Star Trek spaceships would be wastefully wide in real life and are only that wide to accommodate the camera crew. 
> 
> As for the stationary bike helping to create power for the extras, I have a hand-cranked flashlight that's actually brighter than a clunky old regular flashlight and thought "Why can't they do something that could power the whole house?" 
> 
> Besides Winston, he also give clients' pets a courtesy recharge.
> 
> I've read several pet owners' accounts that their pets seem to love to be in the bathroom while they're going to the bathroom or taking a bath. And if you close the door, they're waiting right outside the door. I've also heard some birds see their owners as mates. The mechanical pets do not exhibit this kind of behavior.
> 
> I thought of Hannibal's behavior as being a bit more cat-like because I wanted him to have the same kind of bossiness that cats exhibit: "Dogs have masters, cats have staff."


End file.
